Part 3
Lin Mo nodded slightly, his eyes darkening. The next second, he raised his hand without hesitation, going straight for the wrist holding the weapon.
Tang Xingye had long been guarding against his movements. He quickly backhanded to block the extended arm. The two grappled on the bed, the frame creaking.
Their movements didn’t hold back due to their closer relationship; it was more like dealing with a rival going all out.
Hampered by his sprained ankle, Tang Xingye ran out of strength. His hands were firmly clamped, and his whole body was pressed hard into the mattress. At the last moment, he pressed the cold electric knuckles firmly under his body.
“Take out the knuckles.”
Tang Xingye turned his head away, his tightly bitten lower lip glistening with an enticing watery sheen, refusing to speak.
His snow-white cheeks were dyed with a thin flush due to anger and strenuous activity, his breath rising and falling. This posture made his slender neck stretch into a fragile and beautiful arc, like a swan offering its neck for execution.
Lin Mo’s eyes instantly darkened further. He didn’t want Tang Xingye carrying a weapon given by someone else, guarding against him. Tang Xingye should trust him defenselessly, rely on him.
The moon never moves for anyone’s will; its wax and wane are its own presentation.
Only the moon-gazer, obsessed, understands its beauty and danger.
Tang Xingye was taking out his anger, venting his long-held dissatisfaction, but also calmly testing the probability of suppressing an Alpha with a weapon while injured.
Even when emotions ran high, he would calm down to make favorable judgments. Tang Xingye wouldn’t let his negative emotions last more than one night.
“Where did you put it?” Lin Mo pressed, the force applied by his hands not relaxing.
Tang Xingye wore a look of self-abandonment, closing his eyes wearily, looking fully prepared to be stubborn to the end.
Lin Mo wasn’t in a hurry. He had plenty of patience and could search slowly. His fingertips grazed the taut waist and abdomen, feeling the beautiful lines underneath trembling incessantly at his touch.
Tang Xingye glared at Lin Mo, lips moving slightly, but still, no sound came out.
Lin Mo watched the full, moist lip shape open and close soundlessly, thinking Tang Xingye was probably cursing him. His vocabulary for cursing must have increased quite a bit.
Tang Xingye’s anger overpowered his guilt. His cold, glamorous face appeared exceptionally vivid because of this touch of fury.
Lin Mo was even more reluctant to let go.
Tang Xingye went soft from the touching, eyes red with rage, using all the dirty words he knew to curse Lin Mo.
“I am injured right now.” He tried to struggle, his voice carrying an unknowing softness and tremor.
“When you hold a weapon and threaten an Alpha, do you first discuss whether the other party is injured?”
Tang Xingye: “…”
“My foot hurts.” He turned his face away, voice muffled, carrying a trace of imperceptible grievance and petulance. “Let go.”
How could Lin Mo not see that little bit of unyielding spirit? As long as he didn’t admit defeat verbally, the moment he relaxed, Tang Xingye would definitely pounce back like an enraged kitten and ride him.
“Begging won’t help.”
Tang Xingye: “…”
“Where are the knuckles?” Lin Mo asked again, his rough finger pads sliding over soft skin, continuing to explore.
Tang Xingye seemed to be competing with him, refusing to speak.
Until his fingertips probed lower, touching a patch of extremely delicate and sensitive skin.
“…On the thigh.”
Tang Xingye’s eyelashes trembled violently, admitting defeat in a hoarse voice.
As soon as Lin Mo let go, Tang Xingye ruthlessly gave him a heavy elbow strike. Lin Mo clutched his abdomen in pain, supporting himself against the wall, stumbling out to get a patient gown to change into, leaving only Tang Xingye and the messy scene.
The heat of the intense fight and a faint scent still lingered in the air.
Lin Mo’s gaze fell on the glint of cold metal on the bedsheet—it was the electric knuckles. He bent down to pick it up, but his fingertips touched a cool dampness.
The silver knuckles were coated with fine water droplets, glowing with an enticing luster that made one’s mouth go dry.
Lin Mo stared at it for a few seconds, then wiped the water off the knuckles with his thumb. As if possessed, he placed it under his nose and sniffed lightly. An extremely faint but unusually sweet aroma lingered, like nectar from deep within.
Really so sensitive.
Is it because he was fed a lot of pheromones? So he became especially sensitive?
Thinking that this abnormal reaction might stem from another Alpha’s marking and irrigation, Lin Mo’s expression turned a few degrees colder.
Tang Xingye rotated his wrist, pursing his lips, looking unhappy.
Coincidentally, the dark clouds outside the window scattered. Cold moonlight poured in, brightening the room considerably and illuminating the lingering anger on his face clearly.
Like a cat with fur standing on end, pretending to be cold.
The kitten was angry. Lin Mo’s fingers twitched slightly, restraining the urge to rub his head and smooth his fur. He handed the knuckles to Tang Xingye. His voice returned to its usual calm, even carrying a hint of objective assessment.
“The knuckles are too big; not suitable for self-defense.”
This objective statement, heard by Tang Xingye who had just experienced humiliation, didn’t sound like concern. It seemed like an accusation: Why were you targeted? Why do you need electric knuckles?
Tang Xingye took it, a nameless fire surging in his heart. With a snap, he turned on the switch. The ghostly blue electric arc reflected in his pupils, mirroring a shattered coldness.
“Shut up now. I don’t want to hear you speak.”
Very good. This is Tang Xingye. We should be like this, casting aside those useless social masks, not suppressing, revealing the truest self.
Lin Mo didn’t continue the topic. He simply silently took out another item from his pocket and handed it over.
A compact object with smooth lines.
It was a stun baton.
“What do you mean?”
Tang Xingye’s gaze moved slowly from the stun baton up to meet Lin Mo’s eyes. Those eyes flickered darkly in the moonlight, like agate.
“Being defensive isn’t wrong. This suits you better than the knuckles, and it’s more concealable.”
Tang Xingye didn’t take it. He stared at the hand handing over the stun baton.
It was these hands that performed experiments more exquisitely than him, wrote out problem-solving ideas one step faster than him, possessing the life he didn’t have.
“I will help you. Whether it’s experimental problems or other people.”
Of course, I hope the next one to be burnt to a crisp is those eyesore dogs.
Lin Mo spoke in a low voice, stuffing the stun baton into Tang Xingye’s palm, pushing out the knuckles given by Ji Chen. The knuckles fell to the ground with a thud, dropping into the shadows, as if sinking into pitch-black pool water.
Why? Tang Xingye’s eyes conveyed this meaning.
Why help him?
Lin Mo supported himself with both hands on either side of Tang Xingye, pressing down on him, allowing the cold stun baton to press against his body.
Tang Xingye looked into those usually calm eyes. At this moment, they were filled with his reflection, as if he were the sole focus of his life.
After a stalemate, Tang Xingye raised his arm, hooking around his neck. His hand crossed his shoulder, and finally, his fingertips landed on the most fragile temple, while the stun baton continued to press against Lin Mo’s waist, threatening him constantly.
The situation reversed, status inverted. Now the Alpha’s fate was controlled at the Beta’s fingertips.
Lin Mo didn’t care about this at all. The threat to his life made his heart beat violently, blood rushing with a sigh of satisfaction.
“This is the answer.”
He slowly lowered his head.
Under the moonlight, the shadows of two people pressing close, restraining each other, merged.
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